CHAPTER FIFTEEN
bite the hand that feeds you

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AT THE COMMISSION, in the hefty book they were given about the ways of torturing and assassination (which were all written in such a nonchalant way a stranger to the subject may have thought it was a cookbook), there was a subsection, a guide, that told you to know who you were beating the shit out of. Sometimes, all it took for a particularly stubborn victim to talk was the threat of their favourite necklace being thrown in the fire, perhaps, or ripping their completed manuscript to shreds.

Because everyone had a weakness. An Achilles Heel. Something that would loosen your tongue. You just needed to find it, and the best way to do so was to know who you were interrogating. Know thy enemy, as Sun Tzu had said. And he was right.

In Klaus Hargreeves' case, after hours and hours of attempted strangulation, waterboarding, and classic bashing, Hazel and Cha-Cha finally found his necklace. His weakness. And that happened to be the packets of drugs he kept in the pockets of his coat.

After he was forced to bear witness to Hazel and Cha-Cha crushing his pills beneath their shoes and sharing his special chocolate, Klaus had finally blurted out everything he knew. Not only did he spill the secrets of Five's mad rambles about the prosthetic eye and the apocalypse, but he also blurted out what little he knew about Nadine Vidal, which was, given that he'd only known her for four days, not much. Still, the information was surprisingly helpful, especially a certain tidbit of information Nadine had mentioned to Klaus in passing. It was a small thing, just a hint about her past, but it helped Cha-Cha, at least, form a tentative plan. She'd always been more of the brains of her partnership, while Hazel was the brawn (though that wasn't to say she didn't have skills in fighting—she could knock people to their knees easily), so even with her mind slightly addled, she found herself formulating.

As she bit into another piece of that special chocolate, she stared down at her mask. Bubblegum pink, black eyes like coal. It was the only way the mark had seen her. Which was why, as she prepared to go out and burn the lab to ashes, Cha-Cha found herself smiling.

Klaus, of course, stayed behind, his body quivering, his eyes glistening with unshed tears, sobriety and withdrawal slicing into him like a knife. Dried blood had congealed on his upper body, sticky and uncomfortable, and his hair plastered to his forehead with sweat. Guilt sowed into the pit of his belly like a seed, acute and painful, and fear prickled through him. He hadn't had any obligation to keep his mouth shut regarding Nadine or Five—Five had treated him like shit the entire time since his return, and Nadine was still practically a stranger—but it still felt like a betrayal. Perfidy. Blowing the whistle. Biting that hand that fed him.

I'm sorry, he thought. He couldn't say it aloud. There was still tape around his mouth, sealing his lips shut. His limbs twitched. Why did he have to be so weak?

All it had taken for him to break was a packet of pills crushed beneath a boot, an edible swallowed right in front of him. All it had taken for him to break down was the closet, which was an uncomfortable reminder of the mausoleum he'd been locked in so often as a child.

He could practically hear his father judging him. "You've always been weak, Number Four, but this is a new low." The words were spat with venom, with electricity, and they burned as they settled into Klaus's skin. "You are an addict and a coward. You had so much potential, Number Four; why did you have to waste it?"

Klaus closed his eyes, as if somehow the darkness could block out his father's voice—and the constant mutters of the Russian ghost that had materialized once sobriety had begun to kick in. It didn't work. Again and again, his father sneered at him, spitting out insults he'd so delighted in throwing at Klaus when he was younger.

Nobody was coming for him. Klaus knew that, and he also knew it was unlikely anyone ever would. He knew that soon, Hazel and Cha-Cha would be done with him, would have no more use for him. And then they'd kill him, and burn him, because of course, they needed to be away with the evidence.

Soon, Klaus realized, he'd find his destiny as a clump of ashes. Just like Ol' Reggie.

Even the idea of sharing something as commonplace as an after-death form with his father made him cringe.

"THIS IS IT," Luther announced. "He's still here. This is Five's van."

The trio stopped in front of a plumbing van that was parked near Meritech, a prosthetic seller. Nadine, who'd been trailing after these assholes for the past half hour, was glad to finally get a rest from their constant dirty looks they were shooting at each other and the classic Hargreeves-vs-Nadine tension that she was getting sick of. Diego was still smarting from their argument from yesterday and Luther was still confused as to why she was sticking around, which, paired with the brothers' constant need to one-up each other, made for an extremely uncomfortable walk. Nadine still couldn't believe these were the people she'd idolized as a kid.

Luther, Diego, and Nadine all moved to the side door of the van, which Luther jiggled at, attempting to get it to open. Unfortunately for him, it refused to budge, which ended with Diego stepping in to pick the lock with ease. Nadine watched him do so with awe, adding another talent she definitely needed to master onto her mental To-Do list. Diego just pulled open the door.

Both men attempted to get inside at the same time, which resulted in them slamming against each other and jerking back with sour looks (and, presumably, sore shoulders). They tried again, but, like cartoon characters, didn't fit, and found themselves stepping back yet again. Nadine watched them with amusement for a moment, then walked around to the other side of the van, picked up a rock, and smashed it into the window. Glass sprayed everywhere, and she dodged the projectiles before reaching inside the van and unlocking the door. She slid it open just as she heard Luther growl, "I'm One."

She was already inside when Luther attempted to force his way in, his hulking frame, as usual, making it difficult for him to fit. Before, Nadine might've laughed at his attempts, but now, knowing what hid behind his trench coat, she found herself jolted with a surge of pity for Luther. Which was ridiculous, given that she didn't even like the man, and she was pretty sure he didn't like her.

But still. She wouldn't forget the shame that had been on his face, when he'd picked himself back up. The way he'd looked to Allison, embarrassment colouring his cheeks. The way he'd stormed off right afterwards, like he just wanted to disappear.

By the time Luther and Diego made their way into the van (which was a comically long time), Nadine was already in the back, sifting through the van's contents. As Diego entered through the back, he startled at the sight of her. "How did you get in?"

Nadine answered with a gesture to the front window, which was smashed to pieces. It was pretty self-explanatory.

Diego stared at it with a begrudging sort of respect. "You do this stuff a lot?" he asked, as he crouched beside her, sifting through Five's meagre belongings. Nadine shrugged.

"No. But I'm a fast learner."

After a minute, Diego swallowed, posing the question that, to Nadine, it seemed like he'd been holding in. His tone was disinterested, but she could tell there was curiosity behind it. "Where'd you learn to fight? Because, I have to admit, you did manage to hold your own back there, when those freaks attacked us.

"I mean, for the most part," he added, referencing the moment she'd frozen up, because of course, he did. But Nadine found she didn't even care about that.

A slow grin spread onto her face. "I took classes."

Diego pulled a book out of the duffle bag Five had left here, and begun to flip through the pages. Nadine could see they were all completely covered in scribbles, which ran over the words and down the margins.

After a moment, he let out a whistle, drawing Luther's attention to him. Diego held up the book, which turned out to be a copy of Extra Ordinary: My Life as Number Seven. Nadine realized the scribbles were math equations—they completely filled up the front pages. But along with graphs and variables Nadine couldn't comprehend was a stamp, one that said, This Book is Property of the Public Library: Argyle Street Branch. It was a lead.

"I know where to find Five," said Diego.

Well, that had been easy. The only unfortunate bit was that Nadine was going to have to spend more time with these two fucking idiots. She let out a deep sigh, then slid out of the van, leaving it with its ruined window (well, it had already been stolen, so it didn't matter that much) and glass shards littering the interior. Luther and Diego were quick to follow.

As Nadine set out towards the library, she felt her phone vibrate in her pocket, a call ringing through. Fishing the device out, she looked at the screen, expecting a call from Beau, perhaps, or even, if she was really getting her hopes up, Vanya. However, it was neither of the two. Instead, the face that stared back at her was a face Nadine continued to attempt not to think about.

Camille was radiant even in her profile picture, constantly glowing much like the sun Nadine compared her to. Her lips were cherry-red, and her eyes practically sparkled, her curls cascading elegantly down her shoulders. This ethereal image was a stark contrast to the contact name, which read Camille: DO NOT ANSWER! It was a warning Nadine nearly followed.

Instead, she found herself answering, compelled as if by siren's song. As she held the phone up to her ear, she lapsed into French. "Allo?"

"Nadine... salut." Camille's voice was hesitant, airy. "J'appelais juste pour m'enregistrer. Ton père dit que tu es en Amérique. Est-ce que ça va?" I was just calling to check in. Your dad says you're in America. Are you okay?

Non. The word was on the tip of her tongue, and the urge to spill everything about the last few days filled Nadine to the brim. About Five and the potential apocalypse, and Hazel and Cha-Cha and the attack on the house, the fact that she'd met her childhood heroes (Camille knew who they were—she'd had to suffer through many of Nadine's rambles about the Umbrella Academy). But it would be selfish to pass this information onto her ex-girlfriend, and it wasn't like Camille would believe her, anyway. Nadine knew this, deep down, but just hearing Camille's voice on the phone made it difficult for her to body her decision. Perhaps Camille was not the sun, but a siren, and her voice always lulled Nadine back to her side.

Nadine swallowed; steeled herself. She was not the lovestruck twenty-six-year-old she used to be. She had been through unimaginable things solely in these past few days. She was molded, a sculpted version of herself. She breathed fire and chewed iron. Her bones had been hardened into steel.

"Je vais bien," she said sharply, letting the classic Nadine Vidal flame bite its way loose. "Et même si je ne l'étais pas, tu n'as plus besoin de t'inquiéter pour moi." I'm fine. And even if I wasn't, you don't need to worry about me anymore.

"Pourquoi?" Camille sounded almost sad. "Parce que nous avons rompu? On peut encore être amis, Nadine." Why? Because we broke up? We can still be friends, Nadine.

No, Nadine thought. We can't.

"Ce n'est pas le bon moment," she said instead. "Je dois y aller." This isn't a good time. I have to go.

"Nadine—"

"Je suis désolé, Camille." I'm sorry, Camille.

She was about to hang up the phone when Camille blurted, "Tu me manques." I miss you. Though it more directly translated to you are missing from me. Like Nadine was a piece in Camille Lambert's heart that had been chipped away when they broke up. Like Camille almost regretted it.

Nadine didn't tell Camille she missed her so much it physically ached sometimes. It tingled, like a phantom limb. Instead, she just said, "Je connais," and hung up the phone. I know.

I know, Camille. Because we were the sun and the moon, and one cannot be without the other.

Nadine was sliding her phone in her pocket when she felt the weight of Diego's stare prickling into her. She turned towards him. "What?"

"What was that about?" Diego asked tentatively.

"I don't see why it's any of your business, Number Two," Nadine spat, her temper flaring up like the click of a lighter.

"I know," said Diego slowly, "it's just... you sounded upset. I don't think I've ever heard you sound that way before."

"Fuck off." Nadine increased her pace so that she was walking slightly ahead of the knife-wielding man. She kept her head high, but inside, she thought, and very nearly said, You're right, Diego. Because only Camille can make me feel like who I used to be.

MERCIFULLY, THE REST OF the walk to the Argyle Library didn't take long, and it was only minutes before Nadine was pushing her way through the doors. It was a spacious area, filled to the brim with people milling about, checking out the titles available on the many shelves that spanned around the interior. As the unlikely trio made their way further indoors, Luther decided that this was the best time to suggest the most obvious idea: "Let's split up."

"Wow," said Diego dryly. "Good thinking."

"Now I see why you're Number One," Nadine added, sarcasm lacing her tone. Luther let out a frustrated huff at their lack of acceptance to his leadership and stomped his way to the right of the library. He could really be such a child sometimes.

Nadine rolled her eyes, watching him go, and separated herself from Diego, too, beginning to mill about, looking for Five. As she walked, she traced her hands over the plastic library casing on the books. They were smooth on her callused hands, and somehow, the crinkle as she slid her fingers over them was enough to calm her down, at least a little bit. And so, as she searched for any sign of the uniform-clad, infuriating fifty-eight-year-old, she allowed herself to think.

It was quiet in here, serene, like one of her Sanctuaries. There were people strolling about, looking at books, and others perched in armchairs, getting lost in fictional worlds. Nadine had never been an avid reader—she'd thought that staring at words for hours on end could get boring—but now she was beginning to see the appeal. Complete silence only broken up by the light tapping of keyboards and the occasional flick of a page. A place to relax, to let your guard down in a world that strictly discouraged it.

Her mind wandered back to Camille's call. What had been the meaning of it? Why did she decide to call Nadine now, when she'd gone to another continent? Did Camille really miss her that much, or was she just ensuring that Nadine hadn't moved on? Nadine didn't want to think that her ex-girlfriend could be so cruel, but Camille had always been a femme fatale, a temptress, seducing Nadine in with pretty words and a strawberry kiss to the cheek. She had the beauty of a goddess, the song of the fae, and it never failed to lure Nadine in. Like a fish caught multiple times, encased by the same worm writhing on a hook.

But Nadine couldn't be a fish on the end of the line, nor a sailor steering her ship into a siren's grasp or an enchanted human stepping into a fairy ring. She was no ditzy maiden; she was the knight. The pirate. The dragon. Which was why she'd hung up on Camille. She wouldn't be tempted by the sun again.

She let her eyes sail around, sweeping her section of the library for any sign of a thirteen-year-old in a uniform. There was a quick second where she thought she saw a flash of brown hair and shorts, but it turned out to be a boy that could be no older than ten sitting against a shelf, engrossed in a book about aliens. Nadine breathed out a sigh and continued her search.

Which was how she ended up meeting up with Luther and Diego again, on the fourth floor. She was peering off the balcony, looking down at the passersby below when Luther spoke, startling her. "Anything?"

"No," said Diego. Nadine shook her head.

"I didn't see him, either."

Luther let out a sigh, beginning to walk off, but Diego stopped him. "You wanna know why I left?" he asked, obviously referencing the argument they'd had in Five's room. Or, at least, obvious to Nadine. Luther didn't seem to be so quick on the uptake, as when he walked back to Diego, he was confused.

"What? What are you talking about?"

"Why I left the Academy," Diego clarified.

"Yeah, 'cause you couldn't handle me being Number One," said Luther. Nadine let out a growl.

"If you two idiots start fighting again..." she said, her voice low in warning. Fortunately, Diego didn't rise to the bait Luther was teasing him with.

"No. Because that's what you do when you're seventeen," he said instead. "You move out, become your own person, grow up."

"Oh, yeah," snarked Luther. "You're a real grown-up."

"Says the guy who never officially moved out of his dad's house," Nadine muttered. Though maybe it was a bit hypocritical of her to say that, when she was living in the hotel her father owned.

"At least I make my own decisions," said Diego, still in that calm tone, like everything Luther threw at him was just rolling off his back. "You've never had to hold down a job. Pay bills. You ever even been with a girl?"

"I..." Luther cleared his throat. "I don't know what you're talking about—"

Diego chuckled. "Look, if you wanna blame me, blame us for leaving... that's okay. But maybe you're asking yourself the wrong question. Maybe it's not about why we left. Maybe it's about why you stayed."

"I stayed because the world needed me."

"You stayed because you couldn't let go of the way things used to be. The Academy. Dad. With Allison." Diego took a breath. "Dad's dead. Mom too, now. We're orphans again, dude. And things are never gonna go back to the way they used to... be." He trailed off, and Nadine clapped slowly.

"Nice speech, Diego," she drawled. "I really enjoyed the 'maybe it's why you stayed' line. You ever think about becoming a writer?"

Luther let out a sigh, looking to her. "You're still here?"

Nadine rolled her eyes again (for God's sake, she was definitely going to end up spraining them if she had to stay with these idiots for much longer). "If you guys are done with your brotherly bonding moment, I'd advise you to take a moment to shut your mouths and listen, because I swear, I just heard a woman asking where some kid's parents are."

Luther's eyes widened. "Five."

Then they were off to the source of the sound, rounding a corner, and that was when they noticed Five Hargreeves, sound asleep with his arm slung around a broken mannequin, a bottle in his hand. Splayed around him were several books and an empty bottle, and on the pillars surrounding him were math equations written in sharpie.

They'd found him.

"Is he, um...?" Luther began tentatively.

Diego nodded in affirmation. "Drunk as a skunk."

The bottle slipped out of Five's hands and rattled to the floor. Nadine stared at Five, aghast. Just when she thought she might get some coherent answers.

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HAVEN: this chapter took me SO LONG to edit so y'all better enjoy it. seriously, i had to change so many things about it, as well as adding more to klaus's pov (which almost made me cry writing oops). it just... wasn't good. but hopefully it's better now.

anyway, here's the start of the diego/luther/nadine trio! i love it so much, and i wish they had more scenes together (i really wanted her to be in the öga for öga scene in season two, but i'm not sure if that will work out). i love the way the three of them are completely exasperated with each other, and each one thinks of themselves as superior to the other two. it's legendary, honestly.

(and by the way, i am not sorry about klaus's scene)

lastly, i really would like to thank everyone who's reading this. ignis fatuus definitely isn't as popular as the acatalepsy series (partly because it's more recent, and partly, i think, because stranger things is more popular than umbrella academy on here), so thank you to everyone who's supported me on this book, i really appreciate it :) i'm super excited to continue this book, especially since things are going to get more intense during act two. i hope you'll stick with me through it!! 

thank you for reading <333